interstellar5555 | 002 ✽ Come back! Even as a shadow, even as a dream

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002 ✽ Come back! Even as a shadow, even as a dream

Who: Everyone stuck in Virgo HQ
What: This happened, and now we're all stuck here.
When: Nov. 1 - 5
Where: Virgo HQ
Warnings: Honor system, I'm trusting everyone to put warning in the subject lines if it comes up in their threads!

So.

Press events? Not happening. Concerts? Cancelled. Going out at all? N o p e.

Everyone- well every newbie- is ball and chained to Virgo Entertainment's headquarters for the time being. What's the emergency? No one knows, but you're all stuck here regardless.

> What will you do?

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A - Nov 1, FoB penthouse

[She is at the doorway to a beautiful room. It's expensive, but it's not like her room in Virgo. It's subtle, lowkey, a place which does not try to flaunt it's status. There are lilies in a vase.

[Her mother is standing at her vanity.]

[Luce knows it is her mother. Her hair has always been something of admiration to her, long and straight as it falls around her shoulders, and they share the same deep blue eyes like the sea. The same mark that is beneath her eye is in the exact place on her mother's own face.]

[Her mother smiles to her, and Luce beams as she trots over. She can't be older than ten, and her head brushes against the holsters wrapped around her mother's shoulders. On the vanity is large ring box, filled with a set of seven. The stones set in each one are dull and gray, lifeless, even as the meticulously made metal wings surrounding them stretch out so hopefully.]

[A hand settles on her shoulder. Her mother's voice.

["You know what these are, don't you?"]

[And Luce wakes up.]

[That morning, her bandmates- and anyone who happens to wander by since the suite door has been left open- will find Luce doing some good old fashion stress cooking. It... doesn't seem to be helping a lot. She still seems to be frowning a little, even as she adds another pancake to a growing pile.]

B - Nov 2, Virgo ground museum

[Just because she's trapped in HQ doesn't mean she can't get work done, so one day Luce makes a trip over to the lovely first floors of Virgo. She's thinking a trip to the museum for inspiration, maybe lunch at the cafe.]

[Not that she really needs any inspiration. It comes to her so powerfully lately, the images of that special group of people...]

[Still. She goes, and she tries to enjoy herself. She inspects the various works of art, and leans over happily to read each and every thing on musical history.]

[It's when she goes to leave that there's a problem.]

[Whether inside the museum itself or outside just passing by, it's possible to see Luce stop just a moment after passing through the exit. She sways in place for a second, going pale as bone while reaching up to her head-]

[She feels small- weak. She is so weak. She is sitting in a chair, but also not, she's in a bed too and she can feel her heart slowing down. It's trying to beat, to keep on living, but it's a losing battle. She knows it is. It's becoming harder and harder to fill her lungs with air. The room is dark, fading, and...]

[Luce collapses right there.]

C - Nov 3-5

[By order of Angel Ramsey, Luce is getting some strict bed rest.]

[No wandering off, no running around, and definitely no dang stress cooking.]

[Frankly, judging by the careful gaze the FoB manager gives anyone who drops by for a visit, they'll be lucky if Angel doesn't say 'no visitors' too.]

[But give it a shot anyway.]

[There's an unusual energy burning inside Greg all through the week, and he's making no effort to keep it hidden. It's borderline manic, but strangely focused; he'll spread out his notebooks over a table or two wherever he's set up, and along with the usual lyrics and notes, papers filled with sketches of leering eyes and mysterious women.

It's hard to tell what he's seeing, anymore. These weird visions... inspirations... whatever they are, real or imagined, they're something he can make use of. He's frustrated, emotional, and has nowhere to go. It's the perfect time to crank out some new music. There's a fire burning in his eyes, and when he's not looking deadly serious there's a strange, lopsided grin on his face.

If you stop and look over, he'll give a conspiratorial grin. If you're interested, he's more than welcoming to collaborators, from any band. We're all stuck here for a while, and surely they want us to be productive, don't they?

...None of this explains that nasty black eye he's developed, though.]

[He had asked, and so she responded. With her keyboard tucked under her arm, a startling burden she bore easily, Meril walks up to him to begin setting up its stand.]

[Krieg's been a little off, reasonably, since the whole basement fiasco. He remembers everything, a little too well, and now plenty of Virgo's newbies know that his whole "unhinged" stage persona might be more than just an act. While he might have not made anyone need medical attention, it's hard not to be a little apologetic for what happened.

He runs into Luce in the museum on his desperate attempt to burn off his cabin fever with walking around the headquarters' premises. Krieg, by default, is inclined to leave her be, but eventually decides that it's in his best interest to avoid isolating himself.]

Hey, Luce.

[She doesn't respond. It's quiet, here, and his deep voice is hard to miss--it's impossible that she just didn't hear him.]

...Luce?

[In fact, she seems to be lost in thought. Or maybe even worse, considering that her feet give out from under her. Krieg dives to catch her, managing to keep most of her from hitting the floor. He lifts her up and holds her across his arms, giving her a gentle shake.]

Hey, come on...are you alright?

[Krieg's been on the other end of the scale ever since they got out of the basement--one could call it "lounge mode" while he tries to take it easy. Not to say that he isn't participating with his part of the work as per usual, but his excited states have been muted when existent in the first place.

He joins Greg after cooking up something to eat; he slides a plate of grilled lemon-garlic chicken on the table near Greg, then sits down at another end of the table with his own plate. Instead of getting immediately back to work, he goes through the drawings that were done in the time that he was in the kitchen. Geometric eyes and...and fantastical women. Huh. So he hasn't been the only one...

Krieg hasn't been inclined to dwell on the idle thoughts that have been eating at him in the last few days. For some reason, he felt like he shouldn't, but Greg--predictably--has been capturing what comes to him and rendering it into their craft. Putting aside Greg's sketches, he takes up a free, unused paper and a blue pen, and after some hesitation, starts doodling a set of whirling, round shapes as he eats.]

A

Ugh this was terrible. Bein' all cooped up inside is no for a man of the frontier to be. Especially with these.... dreams he's had lately.

In one of them, he's standing on a hill facing the setting sun. His body aches, muscles are exhausted, and his shirt is clinging to him from sweat. There's a stinging feeling on his cheek like he'd been cut. There's a marked weight around his waist, a wool hat in one hand, and something small, rectangular, and plastic in his other hand. But he didn't look down to see what these items were. He only stared toward the setting sun.

But the aches of his body pale in comparison to the pain in his gut. His throat was tight, and he was crying. He felt as though his heart had been ripped open and hollowed out, just as he had the night of the gala.

He woke up sweating and sobbing. He patted the right side of his bed to find it empty. Why had he expected to find someone there? This lockdown had started yesterday and even then it was tough to bring groupies home.

He untwisted his sheets from around him, and got dressed. It was still the small hours of the morning, but he didn’t think he was going to get any sleep after that. His heart still ached almost as keenly as it did in the dream.

When he slid into his everday boots, they didn’t feel right. He pulled them off twice to make sure there were no rocks, loose bits, or his sock wasn’t bunching. Once he realized they weren't going to get better, he gave up and just went with it.

He decided to take a walk around Virgo HQ to see if there were any other restless souls about.

B

Over the last few days Shotaro has had a song haunting him. Sometimes he's whistling it, sometimes plucking away idly at it, but now, he was making a concerted effort to put it together on paper. He's using an electric guitar for once, instead of his banjo. The banjo just wasn’t right for this. Whether there was a spare guitar lying around, or it belongs to someone, it was in his hands now. Whatever had spurred it, this was way out of his genre.

The more he got on paper, the clearer a memory got. It was a guy, a little younger than himself, looking distressed, but emphatic. "You're my only partner Shotaro," he's saying. Shotaro could feel his cheeks getting hot.

He's working like a man possessed, heedless of his surroundings. He's remembering that guy, again, his partner. They're surrounded by green light. Never had he felt more complete than he was intermingling with this other person.

When he's done, he feels as though he's finished a marathon. He drops back into a chair, sweaty and exhausted. That feeling of completeness was gone. He felt again that keen feeling of something being missing.

A)

[After that rather embarrassing display a few nights ago, Weasel has put himself full force into his music. It doesn't help that's he's now twice caught glimpses of faces he doesn't remember. It's upsetting, but he refuses to acknowledge it. Instead, he chooses to act as though he's trying to make up for his most recent failures by practicing more than usual.

He can be found in his room with the door open, which is a little unusual for him, or down in the Virgo common area playing a deep, haunting melody on his bass. Whatever amount of fumbling he'd been subject to before isn't at all apparent now as his fingers fly over the strings.]

B)

[It hits him as he's walking back up the stairs on the evening of the 3rd. What had started as a light cough, or the occasional clearing of the throat, suddenly escalates into a full on coughing fit. His lungs are on fire, and he doubles over, grasping for the railing. He doesn't recall being--

--His vision is nothing but a blur of color now, but through the pain and the orange haze of the shield surrounding him he can still see that figure in front of him. Itachi is struck with a heavy feeling of familiarity, and he knows immediately that this figure and the child from that brief memory before are one and the same, even though he can't see the other's face clearly. His steps are heavy and uneven, feet moving as though full of lead. As he heaves another wracking cough into his hand, blood stains his palm and drips from between his fingers.

He has to reach him. He has to reach him before--

Weasel is back on the stairs again, coughs slowly subsiding as he gasps for air. his gaze darts to his hands, but they're clean of the blood he could have sworn had been there a moment before. The pain eases from his chest, and he's uncertain why he'd been coughing in the first place.

He remains where he is a moment longer, making sure no damage had come to his bass in his fall.]

A) Dreams of the Sea FoB Penthouse, 11/1

[The sudden lockdown had not sat entirely well with Rei. She hadn’t exactly had exciting plans, and what few she did mostly involved going to a small Samhain celebration with a group of local pagans she’d met at a new age shop. They hadn’t known her identity, and she’d kept that under wraps, but being suddenly allowed out annoyed her. It was a missed opportunity to learn about something she’d been interested in, and she didn’t deal with denial well. Angel hadn’t had any trouble from her beyond a sour look, but it was obvious to anyone by the way she was staring out the window that it bothered her. The manager left, seeming content to let things lie though, since if Rei didn’t want to do anything more than sulk a little it wasn’t a problem.

The view from the penthouse window was nothing short of amazing, a picturesque look at a stormy November sea, with dark clouds gathering over the grey waves. It wasn’t anything Rei would ordinarily find beautiful, but something about it drew her today. And that’s when it hit her, a tidal wave of memory washing over the girl, sending her tumbling backwards on the couch in a sudden jerk. Laying there, she just drank that in, clutching her head in her hands and trying not to make a noise. She didn’t want to worry her bandmates, though anyone seeing this could hardly fail to think something was wrong.

The vision playing in her head was something odd. It wasn’t like the first two, nor was it even all that out of the ordinary. The only word she felt truly applied was: significant.

A crowd clapping, herself included, giving a standing ovation at a concert. The woman on stage was nothing short of gorgeous, and the violin she held in her hands Rei immediately recognized as a Stradivarius, the sound unmistakable. A pang of jealousy thrummed through her, not just for the violin, but for the obvious skill with which the woman played. It was nothing short of jaw-dropping, and even a virtuoso like Rei had to admit that she could likely never match the way this woman played. Soulful melodies, perfect poise and pitch, everything about the performance had been perfect, she knew. And when the woman began playing a second time, a new set, it was everything the young violinist could do to stop herself from closing her eyes and weeping. The music was that moving.

As her head rolled forward, her attention fixed not on the stage any longer, she found something. A clue? The concert’s program, simply titled:

Kaioh Michiru, Dreams of the Sea.

And when the vision faded out and Rei found herself laying face down on the penthouse couch, the wave of emotions and feelings finally broke. Tears welled up in her eyes, staining the cushions. What was that?]

Who was that?

Why is this happening...?

B) Getting by Virgo HQ, 11/2-11/5

[No more strange visions, no more weird feelings save the obvious one of feeling trapped. Rei’s hardly happy to be here, and even less happy to be dealing with a fallen bandmate. Luce’s collapse had put her on edge, and she was simply unable to focus on much of anything. She still went to practice and managed to muddle through, but Angel had thankfully given them a light schedule for that, since one of the leads was bedridden. Which left Rei with no dearth of time on her hands, and little to do with it. So, she wandered the halls of Virgo, prowling the communal areas like an unhappy cat looking for a way out. When she did sit still, it was generally in one of the coffee lounges, sitting on her phone and texting absently. Occasionally she’d seem to blush as she read one, and giggle here and there. Expressions she naturally tried to hide, of course, but the astute observer might catch her.

More than that though, she’s also got out a sketch pad and can be seen doodling absently. There’s no focus there, but it’s something she can manage. You might even find her staring at you from across the room as she sketches. Call her out on it

Edited 2015-11-05 04:41 (UTC)

[Judging by the fact that the only response is a soft groan, and Luce seems momentarily unconsciousness, the answer to his question is probably "no".]

[The good news? She doesn't seem to be notoriously ill, or injured. If he feels for a heartbeat, it's much faster than normal but slowing down gradually. Breathing checks out.]

[Does he want to wait to see if she wakes up, or do otherwise?]

[ Ivan groggily pulls himself out of the cocoon of blankets he slept in last night. His hair's a bit of a mess, and he's still in his pjs. Flopping down at the table, Ivan folds his arms over and uses them like a pillow when he really should be making some tea or grabbing some pancakes ~~before Pao-Lin eats them all~~. He wants more sleeeeep. ]

... Morning.

A Tell me why this hurts so much November 2nd

Ryouta’s in the gym, not an unusual sight; he spends two to three hours in the gym on most days, only doing a light work out on Saturday, and resting on Sunday. What’s different is he’s been spending more time shooting hoops than normal. He’s not playing at full force, he’s still injured from when Krieg went insane and threw his drum, causing him to sprain his ankle. It’s in a brace and he’s being mindful of it it, but he hates not being able to go all out.

He’s dribbling the ball up and down the court, he’s making three point shots, two point shots, slam dunks, double clutches, and some fancy moves, but he can’t help but think that he should be better than this.

It’s stupid. He likes basketball, loves it! It’s his favorite sport. He’s good at it. But not that good. He’s just a seventeen year old that shoots hoops on his own. He was homeschooled, so he was never on a team, and now he’s working for Virgo, obviously he can’t go out and join a team.

And as much as he loves basketball, music is his passion. If he had to choose between the two, he would choose music, hands down, no question.

So why does he feel like he sucks? In a way that has nothing to do with the brace.

With a disgusted growl he rushes towards the hoop on the other side of the court. He leaps when he pulls in close and slam dunks the ball into the hoop and grabs onto the hoop with such force that if Virgo had been cheap with their equipment it would have ripped right off. It stays though. Barely moves. It feels like it should just rip right off. A stray memory floats to his mind. Not him ripping off the hoop, but someone else…

He drops to the court floor with a soft thud. He’s going to regret that tomorrow.

B - I’ve turned into a monster November 3rd

He rights down the words ‘Generation of Miracles’ again as he doodles on the page set in front of him. He’s already written several songs that Yama and the others might like, but it doesn’t hurt to have more.

He’s tired of working on the computer in the Surviving Friday suite, so he’s in the cafe, sitting at one of the tables that looks out towards the ocean.

He closes his eyes, thinking. That blue eyed boy? Boys? He can’t get those eyes off of his mind, but there’s two, three? different sets. Maybe. He’s not sure. But different emotions are summoned forth when he pictures them. Logically, he knows it’s possible for a single person to bring out different reactions out another person, but these feel different, somehow. Sometimes it’s admiration and respect like… to a team captain, sometimes it’s longing to be recognized as someone just as good, sometimes it’s just longing and confusion.

He begins to write. Thinking of those lyrics he came up with while having lunch with Jamie, and that longing. The boy, at least the one he’s thinking about now, was like smoke, and not all together good. Just like… He looks down at the note book again.

Generation of Miracles.

Miracles usually meant something good, but… they could be dark too. A double edge sword. Miracles could be… monsters.

He puts his pen back to the top of page, singing under his breath as he writes. This is the chorus.

“I'm only a man with a candle to guide me
I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me
A monster, a monster
I've turned into a monster
A monster, a monster
And it keeps getting stronger”

That out of the way he begins to write the first stanzas

C - …And it looks like I’m the king. - November 4th

Ryouta is bored. He’s restless, and wants to sing.

So, fuck it. Spur of the moment karaoke. He has the karaoke version of the song on his phone, and he’s a little drunk. Being locked up has made him a bit stir crazy.

He’s dressed in a pair of black sweats, a white ribbed tank top, and mismatched socks - blue and gold along with his ankle brace. It’s four in the afternoon, and he doesn’t care if this is childish. It’ll be fun! And who knows, maybe someone will join in!

He starts in the hall way of his suite turns his music on. The volume is all the way up and the piano can be heard through out the hallway.

“Snow glows white on the mountain tonight,” he begins to sing. He’s moving along the hallway. Just like the princess did on that mountain in the hit movie. He changes the lyrics to fit his gender and just goes.

“Not a foot print to be seen.
A Kingdom of Isolation
And it looks like I'm the King.
The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside
Couldn't keep it in, heaven knows I tried!
Don't let them in, don't let them see
Be the good boy you always have to be
Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know
Well, now they know!”

And he’s off! Running, down the hall way, singing at the top of his longs, smiling broadly, waving his hands as if he’s throwing magic ice around.

“Let it go! Let it go!
Can't hold it back anymore
Let it go, let it go
Turn away and slam the door!
I don't care
What they're going to say
Let the storm rage on,
The cold never bothered me anyway!”

Edited 2015-11-05 10:04 (UTC)

[Luce glances back to Ivan, and for a second- maybe it's all the purple. That must be it- the explanation for why she looks back at him and sees that boy with a piercing dangling from his lip, or that individual hiding beneath their hood.]

[The imagery fades away, but Luce still seems a bit quiet before she pulls up her usual smile.]

Ah. Morning, Ivan. What would you like with your pancakes?

Ivan isn't up incredibly early in the morning, having spent part of it in his penthouse eating pancakes, but he does walk around later in the day. He lingers in one of the cafes or lounges with a cup of coffee as he stares out at the ocean. He has his bachi that he strums his shamisen with him, twirling it gently between his fingers. There's no shamisen to go with it. It's currently in repair from his antics in that basement room.

Upon hearing someone enter, Ivan lifts his head up to look, but who knows when he'll be noticed. Ivan doesn't have that strange tendency to only be noticed well after the fact. But, maybe he'll be seen right away.

Turns out there is one other soul so far.

Luce would never deny she's a morning person, but this is a bit too early in the morning for even her. There's no reason in starting up breakfast this early, so she finds herself wandering in a comfy sweater and leggings.

When he comes across her, she's in one of the many nature installations that Virgo has installed throughout the building. It's a serene area centered around water, and her small humming can be heard from beneath a willow tree by a slight artificial creek. She seems to be trying to write something down, but she pauses when she hears someone else making their way around.

Got inspiration, hm?

[Luce can understand that. She's not carrying any kind of instrument with her today, but there is a notebook tucked under one arm and a pen behind her ear.]

[There's an almost electric feeling in her lately. She'd blame it on whatever happened in the basement... But that's not entirely true. Maybe this was happening long before the basement.]

[Curious. After taking some quick vitals, she doesn't seem to be in any immediate danger, but she's still not stirring...

He decides to take her to the barely populated lounge, laying her down on a couch and taking a seat nearby to watch her recover, keeping a vigilant eye on the clock on his phone. There's no need to call for the ambulance--yet.]

[And with that, a warm lush blanket is being draped across her body.]

I wish I could say, dear.

[Luce would have put it there quicker, if she weren't looking around to see if any of the others were around whether Doctor or Angel or the other two teenagers of their little band. Things shouldn't be so stressful when they're all stuck in a gorgeous penthouse in a wonderful building...]

[So what's going on here?]

[Fortunately, after another few minutes, Luce finally stirs with her eyes fluttering open. She raises one hand groggily up to her head.]

What on...?

[The blanket was well received at least. Rei rolled over a little bit, curling into an almost burrito-like state and looking up at Luce. Confusion roiled in her eyes, cheeks still stained with silent tears. She wasn't the sobbing sort, but she wanted answers. She really, really wanted answers.]

This stuff...isn't normal. It isn't right. I keep seeing these people, these places...and I don't understand them. [She swallowed, a thick, gummy feeling in her throat.] Like the castle. And your song...

It...[Chewing her lip, she tried to form words.] It's insane...

[With a grace that seems contradictory to her own turmoil, Luce draws herself down to the floor so that she's besides Rei. Softly, she brusehs some of the wet spots from Rei's face.]

It doesn't make any sense... I know. You're not alone in whatever is going on.

Once we are allowed to stretch our wings again, we can work on trying to find answers, alright? I'm sure there must be some sort of explanation... We just have to be patient.

It will be frustrating, but I'll be here, alright? I'll be here for you.

[ He may accidentally sneak up on her, but Ivan brings a cup of tea to place beside her. It's bought from the cafe instead of something he made. However, he gives it to her all the same. Then he takes a seat across from her, not saying anything and pulling out his own phone. ]

FROM: ikarelin@virgoentertainment.vgo
She'll be okay

Caffeine or a pillow.

[ He's up earlier than he usually likes to be in part of having nightmares related to something he saw after regaining his wisp. He was being beaten up by a shirtless man with too many tattoos, a woman with a playing card theme, and... creepy looking teddy bears. And fire and things being shot.

He needs to up his searching on wards and charms and add something for nightmares. ]

[For all of Greg's energy, he sure can't fault Krieg for keeping at a lower level. After the other night, he may well have used up enough, uh... enthusiasm for a couple lifetimes. Being perfectly honest, it had scared Greg. Still, it had passed, like everyone else's episodes, and he's ready to focus on what's important.

There's always time to eat, though. Greg gratefully takes the plate, and uses the moment to breathe and look over what Krieg's working on. The shapes mean nothing to him, but he's become a little bit nosy lately.]

Nothin' to do but daydream, huh?

Usually Ankh would be all for stealing back his guitar and punching the person who took it while on the way out the door, but there was something really weird in seeing the king of banjos sitting down with an electric guitar trying to create a hard rock piece. Not only that, it was a little on the entertaining side, far more so then sitting around waiting for the next set of 'mysterious blue eye loves' ballads that Kise was churning out at an alarming rate. It also hit a chord once and while, almost like it was close to something that hovered just out of reach of his own mind.

So he found a spot to perch and watch, keeping out of the way while the guy muttered and wrote and snagged notes down to paper. And when he was done, Ankh clapped once, twice before hopping from his perch to reach over for his guitar.

"Nice to know you aren't just a cowboy under that drawl."

[There's one person who Angel has trouble saying no to. With a smile, a compliment here and there to her, and the fact that so much of Flowers Over Bones success was on his shoulders, Doctor was generally in Angel's good graces. He doesn't even have to ask; he walks right up to Luce's door with a tray of food as he has several times now since her collapse.

He knocks lightly on the door so as not to make her jump before entering.]

Here's lunch! I decided to make today's lunch for everyone personally, today. It's been a long while since I had the time to cook. I hope you like salmon.

[He carefully sets the tray over her lap. The dish is organized artfully, like in a restaurant. It's accompanied by a glass of water and a small thin vase with a single short white lily sitting in it.]

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Page 1 of 21

002 ✽ Come back! Even as a shadow, even as a dream

Luce - ota, death warning for the second prompt

Greg - OTA

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B

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Itachi "Weasel" Uchiha - OTA

Rei, Open

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A

Ryouta

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A

A

A

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A

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B 11/2

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B

C